Chapter 3 -Meeting Allison Fox

Jay Katz POV

I followed Dr. Johnson to another area of the hospital. I made sure to text Harrison about where I would be.

“Mr. Katz, she is very bruised and pale. We hooked fluids and made a blood transfusion to stabilize her.” She informed me, and I nodded. I had no idea what to expect. Jackson always liked weird beauties, not the conventional women he would go for, so that may make me even more curious about the woman who managed to make him settle.

He and I were similar in many ways, but Jack was responsible, holding the world on his shoulders. After our parents' death, he aged tremendously. He decided to work for the family business while hustling and finishing a degree. He busted his ass for many years, not asking me for anything in return.

Endless nights I saw him dozing off in front of the computer trying to finish some school work, after having a hard day in the office. I saw him around with women, but he was too busy to commit to a relationship. Only one, he tried, and she was a rare beauty. I could tell he was very picky about his tastes.

I aimed at everything with an ass and p***y. He didn´t. He carefully selected his companions; he would not settle for anything but the best. After all, he had busted his ass to be the best in the business, to graduate with honors, and to keep an entire empire afloat at barely 16 years old, so I was sure he would not cut corners in picking a woman, especially when it came to the one who would become his wife.

“Mr. Katz, you must wear some scrubs and sterilize the rest.” She informed me and handed me a pair of blue sterile garments. “You need to follow the instructions written there, and then you can walk in.” She said, and I nodded,

“A nurse will lead you to her guard.” She finished, and I nodded. This nightmare could not be any worse, and it seemed to be endless.

I suited up carefully, following the instructions. I changed my clothes, left my cell phone in a locker, along with all my belongings, and then used alcohol disinfectant to rub my exposed skin. I wore a cuff, a face mask, and gloves. I remade my shoes and used sterile covers over my socks.

Once I was done, I stepped to the other side of the glass door, where the warm eyes of a nurse greeted me. She was wearing something similar to what I was wearing, so the only feature I could distinguish was her eyes.

“Mr. Katz, this way,” she said, and I followed her. She stopped outside a glass cubicle. Everything was so sterile and clean, and the only noise filling the guard was the various beeping noises hooked to all the dormant residents.

“She is on guard number 5,” she said, and I sighed. Ironically, she was on a guard holding my jersey number. I closed my eyes, braving myself to enter the cubicle and meet my brother's wife, now his widow, for the first time.

I took a deep breath, removed the curtain, and stepped into her cubicle. Her petite frame was swallowed by the many machines she was hooked to. She had an IV drip connected to her arm and another hooked to her hand. She had a neck brace stabilizing her neck and bandages around her head. Her face was all black and blue, covered in bruises and small cuts. She had a breathing machine and tube attached to her body, heart rate monitors, some weird things that tightened around her legs and then released them, and last but not least, a monitor attached to her lower belly.

Both heartbeats were regular, one steady and the other superfast. “She is stable; if we make her cross the next 24 hours, she will be off the hook, and the worst would be over.” The nurse said silently beside me. I didn't realize she was standing next to me the entire time.

“Why is the baby's rate that fast? Are you sure he or she is OK?” I asked the nurse, and she nodded.

“Yes, a baby's heart rate is way faster than an adult's, so that rhythm is perfectly normal,” she said, and I nodded.

“Just be careful with the IVs. I will leave you a moment. Visiting hours are over, but considering the emergency and the circumstances, Dr. Johnson asked us to make an exception,” she said, and I nodded.

I slowly walked towards the bed to finally see the woman who captivated my brother's heart. She was all bruised and battered and certainly not looking her best, but under all of that, I could tell she had pretty features. I wondered which color her eyes were. Would my niece or nephew have her eyes or my brothers? Under the bandages wrapped around her head, I could see the tips of what I was sure: well-maintained sandy blonde hair. It was not a dyed peroxide blonde but a natural golden with sunny streaks. Her lips were busted, but I could see her plump upper lip with a perfect heart shape in the middle.

I couldn't help it. I sighed, “Glad you made it…” I said, and before I could say anything else, I walked out and away from there. How could a young woman like her end up like this? How could a smart, confident, brave man like my brother be lying inside a body bag? Life was not fair; fate was twisted.

It should have been me. I was the stray bullet out of both of us. I was the one having reckless s*x, drinking and driving, battling addiction, partying hard, and playing harder. I was the one who suffered many accidents while intoxicated; I was the one burning each one of my lucky cartridges -not Jackson- it was me who was the troublemaker, but he was the one who died.

I made my way out and changed. Harrison was waiting out there for me. “Here…” He handed me a Ziploc bag, and I squinted my eyebrows.

“Your brother's belongings…” He sighed, and I nodded.

“So, how was it?” He asked me, concerned about what I had faced when I saw Allison.

“She is in pretty rough shape, but hopefully, she will make it…” I sighed, and he nodded. “She is pregnant…” I blurted, and Harrison choked on his own spit.

“What?” He asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah, Jackson was going to be a father…” I confessed, and he ran his hands over his face.

We made our way to a waiting room, and I sat on a chair. I took the bag Harrison handed me and started retrieving its contents. I took his phone and set it aside; then, I took out his wallet. With shaky hands, I opened it. It held many cards, cash, a driver's license, ID, company badge, and so on —nothing unusual until I reached the little window where we kept sentimental things and pictures.

I bit my lip hard when I saw a reduction of the last picture we had taken as a family, our parents smiling and two young teenagers with slightly grumpy faces posing for a Christmas card. I wished to turn back time and be more agreeable during the session. I remember Mom being disappointed about our sour attitudes. We thought we had the world in our hands. We thought we were too cool and old to pose for family pictures. Boy, I wish I had known… that moment would never return.

Then, next to that one was the picture of a beautiful woman, her eyes a deep translucent blue close to the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. Allison. Behind the image, something was drawn with pink ink, a heart shape signed with the letter A. Indeed, she had given him that one. I took a deep breath, trying to hold the tears in. My brother was a lucky, loved man… one of the few who could taste the little heaven of happiness. Behind those two pictures was a newspaper cutout. I unfolded it, a picture of my first newspaper front page. We were mad at each other, and I swore he would see me succeed and regret being an ass to me; he kept my first triumph in his wallet as a treasure.

Damn it! I was so wrong about so many things… How can I make all of this right?

Harrison patted my shoulder. “I searched for the best funeral home and called them.” He sighed, and I nodded.

“The nurse and the doctor at the morgue explained that your brother's body is in terrible shape and that it would be difficult to have an open casket service… so I just need you to tell me what to do?” He asked; I knew he didn't want to burden me further. He was worried about me returning to alcohol as a coping mechanism.

“Cremation,” I sighed. And I want to buy a little crypt in the fancy church close to my place. That way, I can go visit him when he's not on tour,” I said, and he nodded.

“Alright, I will arrange all that,” Harrison said, and then I gave him a grateful nod. He held the picture of my brother's wife and admired her.

“She is beautiful…” he pointed out, and I nodded.

“Jackson always searched for rare gems. Aside from her beauty, she must be something else; otherwise, I don't see why he would marry her,” I sighed, and he nodded.

“Mr. Jason Katz?” A male voice broke our silent reprieve.

“Yes?” I asked, and the officer standing before me offered his hand in greeting.

“I am Officer Killman. I am sorry for your loss…” He said, and I nodded,

“What can I do for you?” I asked,

“We apprehended the driver that impacted your brother's vehicle. He was operating the vehicle under the influence, and once the accident happened, he ran away.” He explained, and I nodded.

“I am here to ask you if you would like a copy of the file, or do you want the office to prosecute?” He said, and I sighed. I couldn't handle anything else, and now this. Before I could answer,

“I will handle it…” Another male voice filled the room, and the officer handed him a yellow envelope.

“I am a huge fan, sir… I am very sorry for your loss…” The officer excused himself, leaving me with nothing else to say but a courtesy nod.

“Mr. Katz, I am Shane Beaumont, your brother's lawyer and a close friend,” he introduced himself, and I nodded. Shane. That name rang a bell. My brother's best friend from Harvard was called Shane, or was it Sam? Why am I that awful with names?

“I still can't believe it…” He sighed, and I could see his broken expression. It was the expression of a man who had lost someone dear to him.

“Me neither…” I sighed.

“Have you decided on the service?” He asked, and Harrison filled him in. He nodded and sighed,

“I think you are doing what's best for Allie…” He said, which cleared all my doubts. I had never mentioned his wife; he called her by nickname, so they must have been close. “And he always said he preferred cremation, so the service would be as he wanted.” Shane sighed.

“How is Allie?” He asked,

“Hanging in there, she and the baby survived…” I paused,

“Baby? They finally managed to do it?” He chuckled and shook his head. His eyes filled with tears. Then he looked up at the ceiling and choked on his tears, “Man, you would have been the best father…” and cried.

I had no idea my brother was struggling to conceive. Now I feel even worse. Did he know? Was he aware she had finally become pregnant? Or did he die not knowing that what he most desired was left behind in this world alone and without his protection?

“I will handle this when you are ready. Could you stop by my office? Jackson left something written for you.” He sighed, and my stomach turned.

“What kind of thing?” I asked, and he chuckled.

“You were his brother, and he left behind a will and some instructions protecting Allie and his kids if the case applied,” Shane said and handed me a card.

I nodded, “Before you go, may I?” I asked him, and he sighed. I had to see with my own eyes what had happened to my brother.

“I don't think you want to see what is in there…” he said, holding the yellow envelope tightly. I extended my hand, and he reluctantly handed it over.

I opened the envelope, and the first picture I saw was of what used to be a brand new luxury car, brought down to rubbish. It was twisted and bent beyond recognition, and the side of the driver was completely crushed…

“He turned the car at the last second, taking the full impact on his side. He died trying to save them.” Shane said, closing the file and putting it safely inside the envelope.

“Thanks, Shane… I will contact you with the funeral schedule…” I said, and he nodded.

“He loved you, you know? He never said a bad word about you; he was proud of who and what you have become,” Shane said, and as soon as he turned around, I broke down sobbing again.

He was the best man among us. He was loyal and a good-hearted man. I was always a mess, a rebel, and an immense pain in the ass. He is the one who deserves to be here, not me.